


Mouth of Babes

by crowdedangels



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: F/M, Politics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:43:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9827072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowdedangels/pseuds/crowdedangels
Summary: 'Baby's First Protest - 2017.'





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roolime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roolime/gifts).



> This was written for the fantastic Fandom Trumps Hate campaign over on Tumblr. Eternal thanks to RooLime for the contribution and for the prompt! Also thanks to Tricki, Vicki and MissLilyMoon for their help.  
> This story does not speak highly of the current US administration, so if that is not your bag, please leave now.

It was an hour until the show. The run down was set, Mac was readying the VT's and the bullpen was buzzing and bustling with phone calls to anyone and everyone for a quote or comment.

Will had stole himself away to his office to write his opening monologue.

_Where to fucking start?_

He'd spent the day before at the airport, sat on the cold floor with hundreds of other lawyers furiously typing Habeus' and swearing til they were blue in the face about how unconstitutional and incomprehensible it was that a serving President of the United States of America in 2017 could enforce such an unconscionable act of racism. Pure, unabashed racism.

Will was still seething at the gall of the 'man', but another emotion flooded over him: pride. Gushing pride at the acts of kindness he saw at the airport arrivals lounge, and incredible pride at the people he had around him. His people.

Mac had been shouting into her cell phone, charging around the airport with their two year old daughter on her hip. She was arranging transport for when the detained were released, care packages to support them and calling anyone she knew in any form of power for quotes, advice and to goddamn vent. She occasionally had to fish her necklace from Charlotte's mouth and found herself kissing the toddler's light brown hair to centre herself in the melee.

Neal was social media-ing everything, toeing the line between documenting and feeling like he was exploiting. He wanted to get the real situation out to the followers. He wanted them to see the lawyers huddled around power sockets, hollering amendments and addendums to each other, trying to stretch out seizing limbs without lowering their typing speed. He also wanted to get the real life reactions from the families, without exploiting them for the likes and retweets. He wanted the impact to be seen; the children waiting for parents, the mother's waiting for children, the husbands waiting for wives. All confused and hurt how their country of however-long could suddenly turn on them.

Maggie had been tossed Will's wallet and ordered to buy food and water. Cushions, power extension cords, _whatever_ was wanted _,_ he didn't care. 

Jim and Sloan were on two cell phones each, Will wasn't really sure who with, but they had looked angry whenever he looked over to them and he knew they were giving hell to whomever it was.

Charlie was hugging everyone and trying to not swear in front of the children.

Even Leona had been there. Transferring hundreds of thousands to the ACLU, calling everyone she knew and not hanging up until they did the same. (Then calling Ivana to bitch about her ex.)

Reese, however – and it still made Will laugh – was stuck on the freeway in a cab that was boycotting the airport.

“But I''m going to the airport!”

“Can't do it, pal.”

“I'm with ACN! I'm going to report on the detainments!”

“I'm not moving.”

“ _I can see the airport! I can practically touch it!”_

Will could see the vein pulsating on Reese's forehead. He smirked at the image again as he hefted his legs up onto the edge of the desk and tried to form appropriate words for the opening.

His eyes drifted to the two picture frames facing him - one of him and Mac when they renewed their vows after he left prison and before she started showing. They rented out the top floor of the Four Seasons and had themselves the party they had been denied the first time. Their nearest and dearest there again for them.

The next photograph was a new addition and already one of his favourites. He had scribbled onto the back of the picture “Baby's first protest – 2017” before sliding it into the frame. It was a close up of Charlotte, her toothy little grin peeking from beneath a pink pussy hat that had been plonked on her head and pulled over her eyes by Charlie. She had her two little fists trying to push up the hem while she giggled heartily at her favourite 'grandpa' and namesake.

The image of Charlie walking through New York in a $5000 suit and hand knitted pink pussy hat was a dichotomous delight Will would never forget. Charlie had loved the march. Truly loved seeing thousands of women – millions worldwide – walking down their streets defiant, proud and loud. The team had walked with them, listening to Leona's speech (Charlie hollering the occasional 'Fuck yeah!' despite the times they wanted to kill each other), chanting along and feeling the rush of pride at the event.

His door suddenly opened and MacKenzie silently walked in (well, as silently as you could on four-inch heels) deposited a new photo frame and turned back to the door. He watched her leave – he loved the view – before looking at the new picture.

It was from the day before – he, Mac and Charlotte sat against the window at the arrivals lounge, all exhausted and watching the families reunite. Charlotte was sat on Will's knee, her head pillowed into his chest and a thumb in her mouth as sleep began to take her. Mac's head was on his shoulder and she stroked her daughter's temple, soothing her into her nap as her own eyes filled with tears as children and parents were reunited.

He recognised Neal's photographic handiwork and knew he'd have to thank him for this one.

He dropped his feet to the floor and spun to the desk, tucking his knees beneath and staring at the blank page on his blotter, the three photographs before him, his thoughts turning back to the families he saw in the airport, the families he saw every day suddenly effected by everything happening...

“Mac!” he called, inspiration striking. He ran for the door, hurling himself through it and calling her again. “Mac!”

“Yes dear...?” she calmly asked, standing up from Maggie's desk. She had that glint in her eye that she had known exactly what he needed to get him where he needed to be.

“Where's Charlotte?”

“Asleep in my office.”

“Get her. In fact,” he hollerred to the office, “Everyone! Get your kids! Your nephews, nieces, godkids, neighbours, I don't care. Get them here before we go live!”

The office was suddenly quiet, staring at him dumbstruck.

“Kids! Here! Now! Mac, pay for Lyfts.”

Cell phones were pulled out of pockets, frantic calls made to spouses, babysitters, the kids themselves to get themselves across town.

“No one call Ubers!” Mac added, arms in the air as she followed Will into his office. “Honey, what are you thinking?”

“You'll see.” He kissed her quickly before hurrying into the bathroom to change his shirt. “Get Charlotte!”

Forty minutes later, Mac watched through the monitors as Will read his notes as he made his way through the bullpen. A few people were still manning the phones but most, he found, were in the newsroom with make-up artists busying around making kids camera ready while they being threatened into good behaviour by guardians. “Hi guys,” Will beamed.

“Hi Mr. McAvoy!” came excited and nervous calls back.

Kids of all ages, sexes, races and heights – Kendra's nephew was a varsity basketball star and a head taller than Will – were stood to the left of his desk, all in their Sunday best. “Thanks for coming out tonight. You all ready to be on the nine o'clock news? Mac, can we order some pizza and sodas for afterwards? Everyone like Joe's? Okay,” he grinned, “This is what is going to happen...”

“Babe, we're live in ten seconds.”

Everything was cued, the kids were prepared and a pizza party was being prepared in the conference room. Will was beaming.

Herb began the countdown, “5, 4, 3, 2...”

Action.

The lights in the newsroom changed and a slideshow began on one of her monitors and on the big screen behind the group of kids. At Will's pointed finger – off screen – the group began to recite facts one-by-one, a lyric from 'Hamilton', from 'Les Miserables', from the Bible and the Qur'an.

Photographs from the marches, the protests, the airports, flashed on the screen. Quotes from Trump, Bannon and Hitler were interjected with photographs from a history repeating.

Eventually, the camera turned to Will stood in front of his desk with Charlotte in his arms wearing her beloved pussy hat.

“Good evening. I'm Will McAvoy. This is Charlotte Elizabeth McAvoy. This is Newsnight and that was a few homes truths out of the mouths of babes.”

 


End file.
